


i cannot get you close enough

by therewascourfeyrac



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling, F/F, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, complete apathy towards canon dnd race characteristics, humans are colder than everyone else and that's all i have to say on the matter, pre-episode 26
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 05:03:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15942338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therewascourfeyrac/pseuds/therewascourfeyrac
Summary: The Mighty Nein's well deserved rest is disturbed by a miserable rainstorm, Beau is too cold to sleep, and Yasha looks like she might be about to leave.Cuddling for warmth, because it's a classic and these disaster gays should get to be soft with each other. Set in some vague pre-episode 25 time.





	i cannot get you close enough

Beau woke to the chill of rain on her face, and the steady sound of drops hitting the ground and cart. Still half submerged in sleep, she grumpily pulled her thin blanket closer, determined to put it out of mind- a strategy that revealed itself to be increasingly futile as cold settled deeper into her bones and she failed to drift back into unconsciousness.

In the end, it was the sound of someone moving nearby that made her eyes snap open. At some point over the last few months, jumping awake at any noise had become instinctual, and mostly it was a false alarm but her adrenaline fuelled heart never seemed to get the hint. She lay still as her eyes adjusted to the dark, waiting until she could make out Yasha’s familiar form, silhouetted against the small fire behind her, to breathe again and let go of her staff. Yasha was still, in a way so few people of her size could achieve, but an uncertain, restless energy poured off her in waves as her gaze wandered far beyond their camp. She could easily have disappeared, if Beau wasn’t so on edge, slipping away into the shadows, maybe passing Molly on his watch but owing an explanation to nobody else. 

Of course she didn’t owe an explanation. Obviously. It was her business how long she chose to stay and when she decided to come back if she did leave. They all had far too much baggage themselves to demand answers from each other.

At least, that was easy enough for Beau to tell herself. In practice, she hated being clueless and out of the loop, and couldn’t push aside the fact that Yasha’s mysterious habits- though she was willing to admit this might not have occurred to Yasha- gave her the upper hand in… whatever their relationship was. The possibility of her being gone any day was stressful. It put an uncertain and uneasy timer on everything, making every less than amazing conversation (of which there were far too many) a tragic lost chance of a limited number of opportunities.

Yasha shifted again, pulling her thick cloak towards her, and a plea left Beau’s frozen lips before she could challenge it. “Don’t go.” It was too dark to see Yasha’s face, a fact Beau was exceptionally grateful for when she turned back to look at her. Yasha was rarely someone to wear her heart on her sleeve, and Beau was never skilled at reading expressions at the best of times, but she still doubted she’d survive with her dignity intact if she could see any response to an already embarrassing moment.

“Go?” Yasha said, with that softness that was always equal parts surprising and natural- giving Beau the wonderful sense of knowing her better than most.

“You look ready to get called away again.”

Yasha pulled her cloak a little further onto her lap and looked away again, tipping her head back to look up to the sky, unbothered by the rain that poured over her. “No, I don’t think so.” Good. That was good. She was… Amazing. In a fight. It was better when they were all together.

An icy wind tore through Beau’s already damp, cold, shitty excuse for a bed, leaving her a shivering mess. Picking a spot far from the fire and the small talk had seemed reasonable in the mild evening air, but now that the rain had reduced the flames to a few glowing embers she was almost tempted to call for Caleb’s aid. Almost.

“Beauregard.” A firm hand clasped her shoulder. She had closed her eyes again without realising, and was too exhausted to hear Yasha’s footsteps. Hopefully Molly and Fjord were paying slightly more attention to their surroundings, she thought briefly, before she registered how close Yasha was to her and all reasonable thought left her head.

Even with her shitty human eyesight she could make out Yasha’s features, and the tension between her eyebrows.

“Here.” She placed her cloak over Beau, carefully, gentle as she always was with her friends. It was beautiful, soft, heavy, dark to white fur that made it seem one with Yasha herself, and though Beau felt like suggesting that she’d warm up faster if she took off her damp clothes, she was had put her foot in it so many times with Yasha, and it was probably best to just appreciate its weight, and no longer being at risk of borderline hyperthermia by the next morning.

“Thanks,” Beau said. It sounded genuine enough to her, but what did she know? “You’re sure you don’t want to keep this?”

“I don’t mind.” Yasha looked away from Beau’s face. Her hand was still lying on the thick fur cloak- it was closer in size to a rug, really- and petted the fur softly. “I am warmer than you, anyway.”

“Toughened up by those Xhorhasian winters, yeah?”

“Something like that,” Yasha said, indecipherable as always but seeming to mask an unimaginably deep process of thoughts and feelings. “Besides,” she continued, to Beau’s surprise, “I like the rain in the forest. It’s… pretty. Prettier than rain back home.”

Beau buried herself tighter beneath the layers of blankets and fur, and tried to understand what she meant. It was difficult to ignore the miserable cold and dampness, and the miles of muddy roads that lay between them and the nearest town and a chance for a roof over their heads. But she closed her eyes, listening to the sound of rain hitting leaves and branches, leaving the air smelling fresh and clean. Maybe not pretty, but it had its perks over Zadash’s chaotic rivers of mud and overflowing sewage on wet days.

“Yeah,” Beau said. Oh, so eloquent. Still, there was no way she was going to put herself through asking Fjord- or anyone- for tips on talking to Yasha. Beau can talk to women. Generally, it was rarely an area she found she needed improvement in. Yet when it came to Yasha, any attempt to get closer became awkward and confused as soon as they left Beau’s lips.

Another icy breath of wind, stronger than the last, tore through the camp, rattling the trees and tipping what felt like buckets of freezing water onto them. She heard Jester, though protected a little by Tiefling warmth and being smart enough to invest in winter clothing, sigh and grumble. At this rate, it was shaping up to be a very grumpy day ahead of them all.

“Okay. I take that back. This just… sucks.” Beau warily reached out from her blankets to wipe an annoying drop of water from her nose. Yasha caught her hand, holding it firmly, but still tenderly, between her palms- amazingly warm palms, at least in comparison to Beau’s, and she barely held back a contented sigh. Well. That was new. Beau didn’t want to admit even to herself that she fantasised about hand holding, but Yasha’s hands completely enveloping her own, so that they could feel each other’s rough, scarred skin, with a gentleness neither got to use very often, made her a little weak.

“My other hand is pretty fucking freezing as well,” Beau said, immediately wincing at how it sounded far less inviting and much more abrasive than intended.

“Oh?”

“I think I uhh… Might need a little more help warming up.” She tried to smirk but was interrupted by her teeth chattering loudly. Fuck. Normally she was _much_ cooler than this. But Yasha had reached out, had come over, offered blankets and a warm touch and told her the rain was pretty, and Beau was so desperately trying to chase this feeling that it had never occurred to her than Yasha might be struggling to do the same.

Yasha made a noise that was somewhere between a stifled laugh and choked whimper, and Beau’s heart skipped a beat. The thought of being someone worth noticing, let alone the sense of being _wanted_ by someone like _Yasha_ was a little bit of a miracle. And Beau, who normally sought out women who could drown out her thoughts with rough kisses and strong hands, and who expected nothing more from her, was quickly finding herself swooning at imagining Yasha opening her heart to her, and shining small smiles in her direction if Beau found small flowers and ribbons. (Incredible arm muscles and the ability to cut down half an army in a few blows made Beau weak at the knees as well, obviously, she wasn’t _blind._ But it was strange to realise it might be something more than that. She wasn’t quite sure what she was meant to do with those sort of feelings.)

Suggesting someone got into bed with her, whatever her intentions, now _that_ was something she could do.

Beau sat up, fed up with the uneven dynamic of being curled up on her side as Yasha looked down at her. They still weren’t on eye level with each other, but she felt slightly less out of control like this.

“You won’t get much sleep sitting next to me all night,” Beau whispered. “And _I_ might sleep better with a little extra heat.” She could practically hear Yasha thinking as her lips parted and closed several times, and her thumb brushed the back of Beau’s hand absentmindedly.

“You’re right,” She said, finally.

Beau grinned. “That’s not something people tell me very often.” She lifted the cloak, shifting it to make room for Yasha, and after a moment she shuffled closer, joining Beau with the fur draped over both of their laps, still keeping hold of Beau’s hand. Yeah, it really was something amazing for her heart to be as defenceless against Yasha’s soft touches and careful words as watching her fight and being effortlessly carried away from a battlefield by her.

They sat like that, arms and legs pressed close, Beau trying to be chill about feeling Yasha’s breathing and being in the ideal position to rest her head on her shoulder. “Come on.” She said, barely audible in the heavy rain, and tugged on Yasha’s sleeve, lying down with her back to her. There were several awful seconds when it seemed like this was as far as they might get, then Yasha moved, and soon she was curled around her, barely touching but every inch of Beau’s body was aware of where she lay and how close the warmth of Yasha was to her. Her fingertips brushed hesitantly against Beau’s waist.

“Is this okay?”

Beau swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.” And what she meant was, _do whatever you want, I’m yours,_ but that might have come across as a little intense. So Yasha moved closer, her arm wrapping around Beau, and she had thought _so much_ about how it would feel to be held by her, and it had been so long since anyone had touched her like this, and Beau wasn’t sure whether she wanted to smile or cry or turn around to kiss her.

She was still obsessively thinking through her options when somehow the rain got even heavier, and now it sounded like all their friends were awake, and a chorus of sleepy, irritated complaining moved through their camp. She felt more than heard Yasha’s quiet, fond laugh.

“Still enjoying the rain?” Beau asked.

There was a soft touch to her head- oh a _kiss,_ fuck- and Yasha gently tugged her somehow closer to her miraculously dry body. “It’s turned out quite well for me,” She murmured against Beau’s soaked hair.

Beau relaxed into her comforting presence, and slowly the cold seemed to lessen, warmth spreading right down to her toes. The sensation of breathing in sync with Yasha drowned out the rain hitting her cheek, and before long all she felt was every place where their bodies met, and the fur cloak that kept the worst of the rain and cold out, and Yasha’s hair where a few braids fell over Beau’s shoulder. She might get some sleep tonight after all. Actually _sleeping_ with Yasha hadn’t been quite what she’d had in mind, but in this weather it was certainly much more pleasant than pining from across the campfire.

“How long are you staying for? Before you leave?” Beau asked quietly, half assuming Yasha was asleep and not expecting an answer.

“I am not leaving tonight, Beauregard.” Yasha whispered back. The rain seem to lighten up, and Beau breathed in that fresh, wonderful smell that was either the forest or the woman keeping her warm, or maybe both. Before she fell asleep, she started to think that maybe they should rearrange their normal room arrangements when they next found an inn for the night, because this was lovely, but a proper bed and walls between them and the rest of their friends would be even better.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments keep writers fed and warm through the winter x


End file.
